As promised, Clay wrote to share his experience of bringing the Volvo to the Waterford Hills vintage race, even though the car’s original owner, Stephen Sharkey, was not able to meet them there.

Despite never getting to meet my friend Stephen Sharkey, or drive my car, last weekend was magical. With the help of a lot of people, I got to taste what it is like to stand next to my car and reminisce about power shifts, carburetors, and battling other competitors for racetrack real estate. I spoke with some of the heroes of the Trans-Am 2.5 Challenge series, got a couple of autographs, and was even able to spend time with my father. To top it off, I was introduced to some of the greatest people I could ever imagine.

A grouping of “round fender” Volvos at Waterford Hills.

We’ll let Clay tell the story of how he and the Volvo came to be at the race.

On my way to Road America, I stopped off to see the progress on my Volvo 122. To my dismay, three months had passed and very little work had been done. Sure, it could be argued that mechanical restorations take time, these old cars have a mind of their own, and there was no contract that unequivocally stated that there was a distinct timeline. But, there was the word of one shop owner, three to five witnesses and numerous emails that talked about deadlines and expectations.

Lets toss all that out the window. It’s now Tuesday July 17, 2012, and I am having to figure out how to get my dismantled car home and put together in time for the Waterford Hills vintage race and its reunion with Stephen Sharkey. I am in Michigan, sitting at my work desk when the topic came up about how everything was going. Flood gates opened, sirens sounded, I told my boss the entire story. We discussed options, legal directions, and kicked around the names of people that we know who could possibly help. A phone call later I am speaking to a Baker College Automotive instructor named Roosebay (Ross Oskui). He is firing off questions like, ‘What are you doing Friday?’, ‘What kind of tow vehicle do you own?’, ‘I’ve got a truck- do you know anyone with a trailer?’ His enthusiasm and optimism is bringing me hope once again that the car may be at the event.

A roundtable discussion at the track with racers Sylvia Wilkinson, John Morton, Horst Kwech, and Tony Adamowitz.

That conversation led me to calling everyone I could think of with a trailer, including a man whom I have never met – Joel Hershoren, the President of Waterford Hills Raceway. In case you have never had the pleasure of speaking with Joel or taking a spirited drive around Waterford Hills, both are a joy! We talked about options, and he brought up the idea of contacting his close friend and fellow racer Rodney. Three days later Rodney and I were headed west with trailer in tow.

Rodney is an interesting man. A soft-spoken, no-nonsense, grey-haired war veteran who lives a solitary life with his two Bouvier dogs. He is well read and will talk with passion for hours about any subject. Rhythmically ranting about the government, the auto industry, the BBC, top soil, his love for vintage Fords…he never hesitates to say what is on his mind or to tell a story. He is a my kind of people. I took to him right away. Oh and did I mention he is an Alfa Romeo fanatic… like I said, my kind of people.

Normally loading a car is a quick and relatively painless procedure. But then again, cars normally have a suspension and wheels on which they can freely roll. This was not a problem for Rodney. He put the car on two over-sized furniture dollies and winched it on board. Three hours later, we were headed east and once again sharing stories. Once back to his place, we unloaded the car, surveyed what had to be done and talked for another two hours about the wonders that lay buried in his garage: a beautiful BMW M3 race car, Alfa Romeo 1600 Spider (Duetto) race car, a dismantled sports-racer, a small bore formula car, Pinto IMSA car… the list was lengthy. That next morning I woke with the sun, headed over to Rodney’s house and we got to work. In a few long hours, we had the car rolling around the driveway. By day three of this adventure, we had a non-drivable rolling chassis sitting in my garage waiting for Sharkey to arrive.

The Trans Am 2.5 Challenge race at Waterford Hills.

Only that day never happened. Wednesday evening I was out running errands, picking up groceries in anticipation of Stephen’s arrival when I received the phone call. Stephen, a man of few words, was speaking slowly on the other end of the phone. He explained that his wife, a woman who stood by him for 64 years, was probably not going to make it through the weekend. It was at that point that life once again got put into perspective. I had been be agonizing over all of the verbal promises that the defective shop made and could not produce. Thinking about how I had made a promise to myself to have car running for Sharkey to take his lap. Thinking about all the people who were going to show up at the track see the Volvo and see how I fell short. When at that point it didn’t matter. It’s a car. It’s an event. It’s, well, really small potatoes when you look at what is really important in life.

So the Sharkey-Volvo 122 reunion didn’t happen. I am not sure that it was the right time to happen. Perhaps when the car is done? But the weekend and the events that led up to it were memorable. I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I met Rodney, Joel, Roosebay and many people who came out to the track just to see that car. There was one of every ’round fender’ Volvo at the track, many ‘square fender’ Volvos and quite a few real Trans-Am 2.5 Challenge cars (both racing and on display). The crowd was fantastic and the effort of the Waterford Hills Sportsman’s Club could be seen at every corner.

An Escort takes a new line around the Waterford Hills road racing track.

Sharkey is anticipating a long weekend at Watkins Glen Vintage Grand Prix race with his son. Although I will not be able to make it, I hope that he is able to snag a ride in one of the the fire breathing monsters tearing up the track. As for me, I am once again saving my money in the hopes that I, too, will be able to take my crack at the wheel and feel what it is like to push that old grocery getter around a corner way faster than Volvo ever recommended. Since I first wrote to Hemmings, I have realized that my car is an investment that is paying off in goodwill, and has been the ambassador to my meeting many great people. Thank you all for being part of this story, sharing your good wishes and helping me make my dream of reuniting Stephen Sharkey with his car one day happen.

Keep us in the loop, Clay – the Hemmings Nation continues to root for Mr. Sharkey to finally meet you and your shared 122 S.

That’s not a “new line” for the Bremer Escort. That’s an accomplished virtuoso racing driver, who has been racing since the 1960’s, skillfully managing to stay upright after BOTH track arms snapped on the last lap of the race! You can see the instantaneous toe out from track arms which no longer have transverse attachment points.

Great story. I hope the reunion finally happens someday. It’s hard to believe that these guys age too. As I recall, the Datsuns dominated this category back in the day leaving the Volvos and Alphas with their primitive solid axle rears behind. Really surprised a lot of race fans. Even BMW couldn’t compete with the likes of John Morton at the wheel. All great cars though. Loved those days.

Morton was a fine wheel. But that’s hardly the full story of BRE’s domination. The Alfas were handicapped by severe weight penalties, else they would have been a force to contend with. BMW? A joke back then in under 2.5L, they did nothing of importance even back in Yurrup much less NA. There were a host of makes and models that could have done fine work against BRE but didn’t have Datsun’s budget. As for stick axles versus IRS, that’s a boring old saw about IRS being superior. F1 cars run an essentially solid axle, there’s so little movement possible, you might as well call it chassis “flex”. The definitive test of solid axle vs. IRS came a couple years later in FIA Grp2, where the Capri 2.9L squared off against the BMW 3-series, and destroyed BMW decisively at LeMans, Tour de France, ETCC, DTM, even Ice racing. Not even close during 1971-1972 era.

Norm,
I was working turn station 6 where Mr Bremer tried to make that pass on the Jaguar, I could see he was trying to set him up to pass him two laps before it even happened.
Not taking anything away from Mr Bremer’s driving prowess just saying I had an up front view of what happened. We also had a photographer at our corner station who caught it all frame by frame.

The two versions of the incident are fully compatible. He could have been going for a pass, as you say. Indeed, I believe he might have been, as the Jag wasn’t going all that fast. But none of that conflicts with the fact that both track arms were fatigue-cracked and pulled apart when we jacked up his Escort to assist him in the pits.